


Gridlines

by Dtour5150



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Arcade, Clu - Freeform, Control, F/M, Flynn - Freeform, Other, Tron - Freeform, Video Game, power
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 23:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dtour5150/pseuds/Dtour5150
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aria is obsessed with Kevin Flynn and his old arcade. One night, she gets a wild hair and decides to explore the old arcade, accidentally opening up Flynn's secret office, then teleported into a strange world full of confusing horrors. She is met by a familiar face, but not everyone is who they say they are, and their intentions are not the purest.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gridlines

**Author's Note:**

> W.I.P
> 
> *Some content in this piece will not be suitable for everyone*
> 
>  
> 
> *I do not own any of the characters unless they are OC's*
> 
> *Some characters, timelines, and situations may be altered from the original universe canon.*

\----

     A silver thread of consciousness. That was how she felt when she listened to the rain. Perfect. Rhythmic. Pure. The rain always cleansed her palate of thought. She sits, curled up in a patio chair on her back porch, safe under the overhang from the passing droplets of moisture but close enough to feel the chill of the storm and hear the disjointed pitter-patter almost -pattern of water hitting the earth. She wears her scant pajamas, nothing more than a black lace thong and matching bra, her slim form kept toasty under a woven fleece throw. Yes, she thought to herself, this is true bliss. She could not be more content.  
But in a world such as hers, where everything is run of hand-held gadgets and controlled by one evil corporation-ENCOM, or at least their board members-such contentedness is hard to find. She savored every second she could.  
Aria glanced to the makeshift porch-table that was once a giant spool for copper wire next to her perch and read the newspaper headline for about the billionth time that day;

"ENCOM Still in Upheaval from Mysterious Disappearance of CEO Kevin Flynn"

     She sighed heavily to herself, deep in thought. So much for that one moment of peace. Flynn's sudden disappearance rode heavily on her mind. She guessed anyone could say that she loved him. It was, however, indeed strange in the circumstances surrounding it. He left no trace of his whereabouts, or any indication of where he was going. Strange, indeed, that her hero-and not ENCOM-and her personal video game hero would just take off like that.  
Aria sighed for about the millionth time, stress fully back and rearing its ugly head. She quickly decided to take a late night-or was it more like early morning?-stroll in an attempt at relaxation she knew would never come anyway. As she readied herself for her walk, she wondered, would anyone raise any eyebrows if she just vanished off the face of the earth? Just like, poof! Gone?  
Aria wonders about that a lot these days.

\----

 

     Aria takes her time walking around town. She enjoys the black sky, the solitude, the unbroken clouds, deserted streets, and the profound lack of humanity in this most late of hours. As she turns down a road leading toward the now-mostly-unincorporated part of town, Doc Marten boots stomping the curb, leather jacket smacking against her bare stomach, chains and zippers jingling (she wasn't wearing much more than her black bra; too lazy to dig for a clean shirt, and who really gives a fuck at this hour?), long brown hair bouncing loosely with each step, gently curling with the light mist in the air, torn jeans hanging limply around her lightly sculpted, long legs, she chided herself for thinking such thoughts. She had more self-preservation than that, didn't she?

Didn't she?

     Aria shook her head, as if trying to shake out the thoughts, but in all honesty, she really didn't know the answer to that. Sure, at one point she had had people she cared about and in turn cared about her, surrounded her with their lively chatter, their livelihood even, their souls, but now.....now she didn't really know what happened to them. What happened to the good old days? To days filled with light and happiness. Aria let out a soft breath and watched it turn to misty steam in front of her and turned down another familiar street unconsciously. She guessed she didn't really know much these days.  
Her thoughts turned to the strange dreams she's been having for the past several weeks, since the disappearance of Flynn. She sees him in her mind. He calls to her, seduces her into his gentle yet powerfully strong caress. He kisses down her neck, whispers words of tenderness into her ear. Truly a lover for all the ages. She felt herself drawn to him more and more, to the old arcade, to his life force. She needed him. Wanted him. Every fiber of her being burned for him whenever her eyes lit upon his face, a picture of perfection. She smoldered for him. Dream Flynn tells her he wants to take her to where he is, to a spectacular place she will never believe until she sees for herself. Wants to make her is lover. The queen of his new realm. Tells her he loves her, that he would never be complete without her. Aria rolls her eyes. Of course it was all a dream. She'd only imagined what it would be like to have him on top of her a million times or so in her late-night wet fantasies that all women have when they're alone and in need of a little TLC. Whatever.  
      Her reverie was broken when a bright yet somehow dull red neon light filled her field of vision. Aria turned her ultraviolet eyes up toward the light and gasped, shocked. She has walked down here almost every night for the last three years-the same amount of time since Flynn's disappearance and her recurring sticky dreams of him started-and never had the sign to his ancient arcade been lit. Ever.

But it was tonight.

     She looked around, making sure, really sure, that she was alone on this street. A quick glance told her all that she needed to know. After assuring herself she was deserted, Aria climbed over the gate before the main entrance, dropped down on the other side with a muffled oof! and quickly picked the old-style lock with expert skill. When she heard the tumblers click into place, she stood up and stepped back, one hand on her hip, the other pulling her hair out of her face shakily, breath ragged and stone cold in her chest, biting at her lungs like a thousand tiny diamonds. She closed her unforgettable eyes and steadied herself with long, slow, cold breaths. It had Aria's dream for years to see the inside of Flynn's Arcade, the place where it all happened so many years ago, to play all the classic upright games and pinball tables, to truly immerse herself into the classic 80's culture that she so wished she could have lived through herself....but alas.  
      Now that she was here, now that she had the chance, she was wimping out hardcore. Fucking pussy. Aria mentally smacked herself for showing cowardice at this stage, grabbed the door handle, and wrenched it open. She closed her eyes as she stepped through, not opening them again until she heard the door click shut behind her.  
She gasped again as she looked around the small space, taking in every minute detail. The main fluorescent lights overhead were out, but the room was alight anyway with about a hundred telescreens, games ranging from Centipede to Space Paranoids. Aria reveled in it, but didn't bother to look at them closely when she spotted the holy grail of arcade games, the one game that has gone down in local folklore infamy, the one that haunts her dreams as much as Lover Flynn: Tron. She walked straight down the row of games right up to it, and stopped when she was directly in front, hand gripping the cold, soft, well-worn plastic joystick that seemed to her the stick shift into Awesomeland.  
Her breath caught in her chest again. It felt as if she were touching God's joystick. This was it. This was really it. She fished inside of her jacket and then her jeans pockets for a quarter, finally finding one deep within the unknowns of that weird little crevice in the front right pocket that's not quite a pocket but not quite anything else either. She slid it into the coin slot, palms wet with the sweat of anticipation as she heard the clink inside the coin door. Then in the same hopeful moment the agony of defeat; the quarter dropped from the return slot and onto the bare, dusty cement floor. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as Aria bent to retrieve the rejected quarter, rejected like she had been most of her mortal life. She had a lot of issues she was still working out.  
      Aria noticed that the floor under Tron was scuffed to holy hell compared to the rest of the floor. There were circular divots dug deep into the floor going both left and right. She touched them, a single tear sliding down her cheek and into the deepest of divots, and as the second attempted to escape the clutches of her lashes, there was a deep rumbling from within the wall behind the game. She stood up abruptly, just in time to see the whole game come slightly forward and slide to the right, revealing a door-shaped black hole.  
      Aria hugged herself, mouth agate, shivering with what had just happened before her. A miracle? A freak act of god? A hopeful hallucination? Her gut told her not just to run, but to run as if Satan himself were on her heels in chase. She chewed on her lip, mind heavy with indecision, not sure if she should run away or venture inside the mystery cell before her. Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on this most vital decision. She knew in her soul that something big would go down if she went in, that her life as she knew it would be changed forever, but she also hated the monotony and stress of her real life. As she puzzled out her predicament, a presence suddenly weighed into her mind, cold and inviting all at once, and immediately recognizable. It was Flynn. He gave her a mental, wordless, soundless push deep within her psyche, making her unconsciously walk forward into the dark unknown.  
Aria finally came to when she heard the door/arcade game slide shut. No going back now from what she could see. Startled, confused, and unable to remember the events of the last three seconds it took to walk in here, she opened her eyes unwillingly and looked around the dimly lit room. It was a simple office, well, simple in Flynn's terms. There was the symbolic slate-black touchscreen desk that she had seen him sit before in just about every early publication expose on him, a meager shelf of books full of classical authors like Dante Alighieri and Jules Vern, and behind the desk several feet away, there was a strange contraption that looks like a futuristic gun. Aria shrugged off the urge to claw her way out of the cement cell and sat down carefully at the desk. She touched the smooth glass surface, to which it instantly came to life.

Still had power.

     Aria quickly typed WHERE IS FLYNN into the dialogue box, hardly able to control the shaking in her hands. The cursor blinked for a second, then spat out the message HE IS IN THE GRID and some unintelligible binary. She blinked, confused. Grid? What was the Grid? She asked the computer. It replied after a second, I AM THE GRID with more binary code attached. Aria frowned. That helped her a great lot. Whatever. She sighed, closing her eyes for only a second before bright blue flashing lit up her eyelids. She re-awoke to the real world just in time to see binary code flash lightning fast across the touchscreen, then another dialogue box appeared that said APETURE CLEAR? with options to click yes or no. Aria had no clue what that meant, so she looked around her, shrugged, and clicked yes. The room looked pretty clear to her.  
As Aria was flung backwards into a blinding blue-white light, the last thing she saw of the material world was a flashing, malicious blue message across Flynn's ancient desk:

END OF LINE.

\----

     Aria landed heavily back into the same leather chair she was just thrown out of. She looked around quickly, breathing hard, heart beating as if she had just run a marathon. Yep, still the same office space she was just in, minus the strange laser-gun-eye thing behind her. Wait....where was the music from the jukebox and the noises from the game systems? Why was everything so damn quiet? She gets up to inspect the sliding door from whence she came through, applied a little pressure to it, and stepped back as it opened up on its own accord.  
She stood, opened-mouthed in the threshold of the secret door, staring at all the same games she just saw not ten minutes ago, but all off, and tinged with a weird blue neon hue. Not believing her eyes, thinking that this is all part of a new dream, she walked out the main entrance that she so lovingly picked to get into, and stood awestruck yet again.  
      The street she had walked on so many nights in a row had changed to a pitch-black slate similar to Flynn's desk, with hexagons bordered with blue neon strips, like a sci-fi beehive. The buildings were of the same type of obsidian slate the streets were made of, with random blue, yellow-orange, or red neon strips running along the sides of them. She didn't understand. Where was she? Why was it so dark? There were clouds, but no rain! Not even any wind or cold. Was she in Hell? Did something explode in Flynn's office sending her right to Hades? Can that even be possible?  
A flash of movement caught her eye. She turned, saw a human-like figure sprinting down the deserted, dark road, and decided to follow. Maybe it will lead her to civilization. She chased after him for about three city blocks before coming to a complete and skidding stop. The figure-now seen to be male-was staring straight up at a giant machine made of the same strange black obsidian metal, and outlined with bright red neon strips.

A giant Space Paranoid.

     Aria stood, quivering, as still as the male figure before her. Shocked, once again, for the third or fourth time tonight. Probably more than that. Aria watched as the top part of the giant ship slid down to the ground, and as people dressed in skin-tight black and red neon suits with black glass helmets deployed from it. It was impossible to tell if the black-dressed people were men or women, good or bad. Aria felt her stomach turn.  
The black-dressed people approached the figure she chased, looked him up and down, then one said 'Rectify', and the figure proceeded to scream his fucking head off.          Ear-splitting, the sound made Aris's head want to rip in half. She covered her ears trying to block the sound out, but nothing doing. The male figure ran in the other direction of the black-clad things, screaming 'ERASE ME ERASE ME!!' as the things ran after him, reaching to their backs for a glowing disc, pouncing on the male figure and forcing the discs into the male's face. He shattered into a thousand little square pieces, as if he were made of Saf-T glass. Aria didn't know she was screaming herself until the things looked at her. She did the first thing that came to her head and ran. Just plain bolted in the opposite direction as the things and the ship.  
      She heard them run after her, making her adrenaline surge, forcing her legs to move faster. Nothing doing, though; they quickly caught up to her, one grabbing her upper arms, the other running around to face her. Aria faced the helmeted thing, looking at it dead center where the eyes would be, spat on it, and kicked it in the balls, granted it had any balls to kick. It staggered away, the other one trying to keep a hold on her while she struggled to break free, planting her elbow into its sternum. The one she kicked dropped to the ground in front of her, so she reared her leg back and kicked it in the stomach as hard as she could. It huffed painfully, and the one holding her put its knee in her back, making all struggling incredibly difficult to do. She struggled against it anyway, wiggling around like a fish freshly caught and slapped on a boat deck. The hold on her loosened, so Aria took the opportunity to run like Hell, leaving the two things breathless and dumbfounded behind her. She was having a hard time processing the information she just took in. She thought she was going insane.  
      Footsteps behind her again, this time more than the original two sets. Fuck, she thought to herself, these assholes just don't quit! They caught up to her yet again, this time with three holding her, two standing in front of her, and the original two walking calmly toward her. The one she kicked in the stomach and balls smacked her across the face, the one she escaped from punched her in the stomach, making her retch uncontrollably. They continued to abuse her as such for several minutes, alternately punching, kicking, slapping, and generally putting her in the hurt locker. The one that she kicked smacked her so hard across the face that the ones holding her lost their grip and she fell to the ground. Hard. Aria landed with a loud oof! trying to catch her breath, still being kicked in the side by at least one of them. They pick her up again, and the one kicking her-she can now identify him by the spots of red neon on his black body suit as opposed to the lines of the others-smacked her across the face yet again. She felt her bottom lip split and ooze thin rivulets of blood down her chin.  
      He continues to do this until a voice calls from somewhere behind them.

  
"Stop, Program. What the hell do you think you are doing?"

  
      Aria went cold. She recognized that voice....but it couldn't be....could it? No. Impossible. Wishful thinking.  
The...program thing that was beating on her didn't stop. The footfalls of the voice grew closer. She thought it was getting mad.

  
"RINZLER! HALT!"

  
The program thing froze mid-smack, his hand floating in the air just inches in front of her face. All the others surrounding her stood stiff as toy soldiers.  
The footsteps grew closer still.

  
"Drop her."

  
      The programs holding her obliged and Aria yet again went tumbling down toward the obsidian earth. She panted heavily, taking full advantage of this new opportunity to regain her breath. She also felt a sickly wet drip off of her chin. More of the red to join what’s already fallen from her lip.  
The footsteps came to a halt, black boots with yellow-orange neon slightly to the left of her face.

  
"Look at me, Program."

  
      Aria kept her face down, cold sweat breaking out over her from the proximity of the voice.  
A short pause, then, more forcefully, "Look at me."

  
She did not.

  
      Finally the voice could be patient no longer. "LOOK AT ME, PROGRAM!"  
Aria was startled by the loudness, but still failed to oblige the voice. He growled and put the toe of his boot under her chin, raising it to force her head up. She resisted to her best ability, but her fatigue from the fighting won out her will to be stubborn. Finally facing the source of the voice, Aria felt a chill pass through her very soul. Flynn? Was it truly him? Aria couldn't believe her eyes. He’d hardly aged at all.  
      They stared at each other for a second. He eyed her hungrily, like a starving animal at a piece of flesh. Aria squirmed uncomfortably, her neck killing her from the awkward angle the boot was holding her head at. Eyes watering from the strain in her muscles, she could hold back her anxiety and relief no longer. "Flynn? Is that really you?" Her whisper was barely audible, not helped by the thick boot holding her head in place.  
At that moment, the drop of blood resting on the edge of her chin finally decided to fall to the ground, coaxed free from the effort of her speech. Flynn's eyes grew as big as dinner plates as they followed it to the obsidian surface. He looked back up at her face, caught her eyes, and smiled widely. The other programs surrounding them all gasped and took a step back from her.

  
"A User." He said, more to himself than anyone. "How interesting."

  
      A strange little man with a weird-looking Mohawk stepped out from behind Flynn. "What shall we do with her, sir? The Games, perhaps?" The little man smiled guilelessly at Flynn. Smug, even. Aria had never wanted to smack someone in the mouth more than she wanted to at that moment.  
Flynn answered without turning to him, eyes only for Aria, a slight hint of irritation seeping into his otherwise cool canter. "No, Jarvis. Take her to my quarters. I'll deal with her from there."  
      The weird little man nodded. Flynn let her have her face back and bent to offer his hand to Aria. She took it, chills threatening to overtake her entire nervous system. His grip was strong, yet somehow soft and inviting, the warmth coming through his suit into her own hand sending warm electric prickles of heat through her body. Aria’s muscles tightened just below her stomach. He pulled her back to her feet easily, looked her up and down one more time, then caressed her bleeding lip, wiping away the trails of blood the extensive beating left with his black-cased fingers. The intimate nature of his caress left her muscles in fluttery knots at her waist, her breathing shallow and fast.  
Face just inches away from hers now; he spoke so softly so only she could hear, "I've been waiting for you, Aria. I'm very glad to see you." His breath was so warm on her skin, his voice thick and sultry in her ears like the sweet hiss of Satan himself caressing her cheek.  
As she struggled for words, he nodded to someone behind her, then felt a sting on the back of her neck. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth as she gasped in surprise, "And one more thing," He said to her, much louder this time, a sneer in his voice, contempt oozing from his very essence, "I'm not Kevin Flynn." As the world went black, the last thing she remembered was the feeling of complete defeat, horror, and fear for herself and her future as she fell into the Not-Flynn look-alike's arms.

 

 

\----

     Aria awoke from a restless, dreamless sleep, stomach burning, head on fire, and various parts of her face and torso throbbing in perfect time with her heartbeat. She refused to open her eyes at first, hoping that the events of the past few hours were behind her, were all a dream, just some strange trip into Wonderland. She so wanted to be asleep, outside in her patio chair, rain falling all around her in the darkling hours of early morning, cold seeping under her moss throw and into her bare skin, but the throbbing of her face and ribcage is what made this fantasy fade away, her eyes flash open.  
      She lay flat on her back on top of a bed, and as soft as it was, it was not her own. The material felt like some sort of silk. It was smooth and slippery like silk, but somehow rough at the same time. Flat black, reflecting only the slightest bit of blue from its inky depths. The ceiling she was staring at was the same black hexagon glass-stuff-thing that made up the rest of this hellish place, outlined with yellow-orange strips of neon instead of the blue-white that seemed to be everywhere else. She sat up, cradling her head in one hand, supporting herself with the other behind her.  
      The room was rather Spartan, containing only a simple couch, also black with orange-yellow neon, a console, a dining table, some cabinets that dominated an entire wall filled with what looked like operation manuals of some sort, and a control console that looked similar to a giant mixing board in a recording studio. The wall opposite her, which the bed faced, was not a wall at all but an enormous window roughly the length of her entire house back in whatever the hell reality she fell from, and about as tall as the two-story mammoth. It overlooked what seemed to be a whole city, black outlined in neon blue-white, with an eternal dusk above it. Aria got the sense that she just went down the rabbit hole, took the blue pill, lost her fuckin' mind somewhere along the line. She had never been so awestruck in her life. To her left was a small door, opened slightly to what looked like a bathroom. As she forced her sore and battered muscles to move toward the mystery room, an epiphany struck her; she may never get back to her reality, her world, her normal life as she knew it. All gone. She was gone. Had no idea how she was going to get back, if she could at all. Not even a sense of where the fuck she fell in to.  
Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks as she remembered that the man who had been calling to her in her dreams was not Flynn at all but some imposter of this land. Flynn was here, yes, but just where she didn't know. Aria doubted that the imposter would tell her. The hot tears flowed down in spite of her tempered control, as she realized that the man she had been dream-fucking was the imposter, too. God, she felt so used! So damn dirty! She needed a shower. Now.  
      As Aria planted her feet on the smooth, cold floor, she realized that her Doc Martens were missing. As was her leather jacket. She runs a frustrated hand through her tangled, blood-matted locks. When will the madness end? Finally making her legs move, she limps over to the small half-opened door, pushes it open all the way, and finds that her suspicions were confirmed. It was indeed a bathroom; jet-black facets gently lit with soft blue-white strips instead of the oddly incandescent yellow-orange that was sure to give her a headache eventually. Aria strips off her bra, ripped jeans, and black thong in the doorway, leaves them there, limps the twenty or so feet to the weird-looking bathtub, took a few fumbling seconds to figure out the water spout through a new onslaught of tears and fresh pain from the movement, pulled the curtain back, and let the hot water cascade down her broken body. She watched as the strangely luminescent blue water turn a dull rust red with her blood as it washed down the drain. Whatever. At least the water was hot. She let the tears come easier now, feeling safer to let them mix with the water than risk being seen by anyone. Aria hates letting other people see her cry. Even weird alternate-reality creeps.  
      She was so into her shower that Aria didn't even notice the figure that came and collected her discarded clothes, then laid out a clean set of lingerie similar to the one she came  with, along with a fresh towel, then left the bathroom, still leaving the door open as she had it.  
Aria finished what was essentially rinsing her body and hair, for she couldn't seem to find any sort of soap or body wash or even shampoo in, near, or around the shower. She stepped out from behind the curtain, and finds the towel, bra, and thong that weren’t hers. She grabs the towel and dries herself, then wraps her hair up in it for maximum dryness, cautiously looking around before slipping on the new lingerie. It was black like her other set, and made of the same slick material that covered the bed. There was one simple stripe of glowing neon yellow-orange down the side of the right cup of the bra, and down the front right of the thong. She was surprised as hell that whoever laid out the items got her size right, but then she remembered that her jacket and coveted Doc Martens were missing, and got less surprised and more depressed.  
She looked around for a hairbrush of some sort, was not surprised that she didn't find one, let her hair down anyway and ran her fingers through it instead. Aria tossed the towel to the side, letting it lay on the floor next to the tub, seeing no other alternative, and walked back into the bedroom-sitting room-dining room area. Sitting back down on the bed, noting how nice the slippery material felt on her bare ass, still running her fingers through her hair, she didn't hear the soft footfalls behind her. Aria was far too wrapped up in herself to notice anything short of a bomb going off in front of her. She was also pondering why there were no mirrors in future-neon-world.  
All of a sudden there were hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently. Her back instantly went stiff, eyes wide, face contorted in fright, as a soft whisper touched her ear.

"You look lovely in my design, Aria, then again I'm sure you'd look beautiful in just about anything."

  
      Aria's eyes widened as she jumped off the bed and whirled around, ready to strike out in a crouch stance as she stared down the Flynn imposter.  
"Who are you and what did you do to Flynn?" She practically screamed at him, voice thick with anxiety and hysteria, eyes wide and wild.  
He sat there calmly, a smile on his smooth face, his cold, calculating eyes holding firm on her own wide ultraviolets.  
As he laced his hands, he spoke steadily, "I am Clu. Flynn created me to create the perfect system. Flynn is among the Grid, but just where I cannot say. My old friend has decided to go off the map, as it were." He looked at her expectantly, gauging her reaction to his words.  
Aria shook her head. She didn't understand what he was talking about. It was as if she was asleep somewhere safe in her bed, or maybe even in the middle of her biology lecture, and had fallen asleep with her headphones in. Or maybe ate something her body didn’t agree with and drifted afterwards. She gripped her temples tightly, feeling a migraine coming on, trying to comprehend this new reality.  
      Clu got up and cupped her face in his hands, long fingers-now bare of the black mesh-like gloves of his suit from earlier- stroking down her chin and the sides of her neck,  forcing her head up to look at him. "Perhaps you're not understanding me. You're here to stay. You're mine. I drew you here. I spoke words of love to you. I held you close on those nights where you thought you were alone in that horrid world you're from. I saved you from all that, and now you're going to help me save this one."  
Aria looked up into his eyes and glared hard, throwing his hands off her face and slapping him with as much force as she could muster, biting deeply into her lip as she did so, reopening the wound the one he called Rinzler had gifted to her earlier. His head flew to the side with the impact of her fury. Aria hoped it did some damage. She was pissed to no end, and even the passion she might have felt for him earlier when she thought he was Flynn wasn’t enough to mask her fury. If anything it angered her more.  
He raised his head slowly, anger flashing dangerously behind his eyes. He looked at her steadily, a small smirk in his face, tasting her fear, and pinned her to the wall before Aria had time to react. She struggled against his grip, Clu's fingers clutching her hair tightly in an aggressive fist. He pinned the rest of her body down with his own, pressing her hard in place.  
      Aria couldn't help but feel her body burn at the pressure of his on top of her. His breathing heavy, she felt his moist breath on her face, wishing against all reason that she could feel it on her neck, down her chest, on the inside of her thighs.....

  
No.

  
      She had to focus. She was supposed to be mad.  
Now was the time to fight, to wish away all girlish fantasies. This man, this program, this fake Flynn had seduced her, had tricked her, had brought her here under false pretenses. He was not Flynn, no matter how alike they might have been. His words were expertly woven lies, his caresses, song to lure her to the rocks of her death. Clu is a bastard for all the ages, a true asshole, and yet she still felt like she did when she dreamed of him not so long ago.  
      She shook herself, tried to clear the haze over her eyes. Focused. She had to get out of this somehow.  
Aria struggled against Clu's hold on her, and in response he tightened his grip on her body. Her whole body relaxed at the increased pressure of him against her, rendering her struggles useless. Clu knew her resolve was weakening, so he became more aggressive in his approach, practically smashing her against the black and neon yellow wall.  
He unzipped the front of his latex suit, exposing the soft grey under armor that provided padding, which also resembled futuristic bubble wrap, but much, much softer and significantly thinner. He pressed his chest against hers, Aria's cheek laying softly against his collar and her forehead leaning into his strong fleshy neck. His warmth trickled over her, his musculature more defined underneath his black armor. Aria breathed in his scent, sickly sweet and musky with the slightest hint of electronic ozone. It drove her wild. A small moan escaped her as she inhaled, partly from deep-seated arousal; partly from the hate she was feeling for this thing for making her feel like this.  
Clu released some of the pressure he held on Aria and wrapped an arm around her waist, his fingers trailing lightly down her lower back and resting just above the dimple of her buttocks. She melted into him despite herself. He was so warm. Aria lost all sense of herself at that moment and gave into him completely.  
The tight fists she didn't know she was holding against his shoulders softened and caressed his face, cradled it, and rested her head in the hollow of his neck, his warm flesh pressed against her cheek.

  
He loosened the grip on her hair slightly and stroked her cheek with a free hand. "Won't you stay, if not for me then for your own selfish reasons? You know you can't resist me for long."

  
      His seductive voice rumbled from deep within his chest and rang in her skull like a shattering crystal goblet deep underground.  
Something broke in her then.  
Fuck this bullshit. Fuck this guy. He didn’t deserve her affections and he had no right to seduce her.

  
No.

  
Fucking.

  
Right.

  
      Aria grabbed hold of her senses and reined them in as hard as she could. She fisted her hands and pressed them hard into his shoulders, attempting to break free of his grasp. Clu’s cool demeanor broke like an imploded windshield and turned to incredible rage the likes of which Aria had never before experienced. He gripped her wrists faster than pissed-off lightning, squeezed them with crippling strength, and forced them to the wall above her head.  
He glared into her eyes with cold fury, stone slates of infinite depth, shining with a thousand promises of pain and torture to come.  
      “You dare think you can overpower me? You think you can get away? Huh?” He slapped her already swollen face. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. You can’t possibly know. You’re never getting away from me. Go ahead. Try. I invite you to. But know that no matter how far you get, or how fast you run, I will find you. This is my realm! Mine, you insolent User! I created the perfect system; I am the perfect being of this realm. There is no place that’s too far for my reach.”  
      He slapped her again, moving his thigh in between her legs to further pin her in place. Aria struggled, flailing her body from side to side, desperate grunts of fury and effort bubbling up from deep in her throat. Clu shook her roughly, inadvertently bashing her head against the wall in the struggle, leaving her dazed and seeing stars.  
In the midst of her albeit short recovery, Clu grabbed her hair and roughly threw her onto the bed, causing Aria to hit her temple against the corner of the headboard. She laid on the bed, half hanging over the edge cradling her bleeding head, temporarily blinded from pain and the intensity of the blow. She thought shit like this only happened in gangster and cop movies. This is straight up Taxi Driver shit, not shit that happens to females like her. She contorted her body in time with the waves of pain that elapsed from the side of her head, leaving one instance then coming back just as quickly as if reminding her that the best is yet to come, that it was still there rearing its ugly head for all to see. She felt a molar crack as she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. Not a chance in Hell that she would give this bastard the satisfaction.  
      Clu smirked and chuckled to himself, deep and throaty as he took his time making his way to Aria’s crumpled form. He fisted her hair again and twisted her head to face him. Bringing his face low to hers, he pressed his lips to her mouth with about as much intimacy as a semi crashing into a kid on a bicycle on a busy highway. He pulled back and smirked mirthlessly, Aria’s blood staining his lips ever-so-delicately. She glared at him hard and spit into his grinning face, splattering his cheek just below his eye.  
His smirk dropped like a newborn giraffe and he deftly wiped off her retort and flipped her onto her stomach. Aria was too weak to fight him off, though she struggled to crawl across the bed. Clu grabbed her thighs and pulled her back, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist. He bent over her prone body, slid two fingers over the back strap of her bra, and it responded by disintegrating. Aria’s struggles became momentarily stunned into a dumbfounded stupor as she scrambled to cover herself, trying to stop her bra from disappearing into thin air.  
      Clu laughed and pressed her back down, a firm hand between her now-bare shoulders. “It’s called derezolution. All things in the Grid are able to be derezzed. Of course, Users cannot be disposed of in this way, but the things you are made to wear can be, as well as native Programs. Don’t you find it an intriguing system?” He held her down as he stroked the back of her thong in the same manner and watched it disappear with relish.  
“Of course, only those who understand how to use this feature of Program Evolution can harness it.” He ran the hand not pinning her to the bed down her back, over the curve of her buttocks, paused, then slapped her firmly.  
      Realizing what his intent was, Aria whimpered and struggled to get away, disgusted that he spanked her, horrified that she was about to be deflowered against her will, and wholly disturbed that it was going to be by a computer program. She clawed at the bedspread, but to no avail. Clu caught on to what she was planning and grabbed her hair, effectively stopping her progress and jerking her head back painfully. He laughed heartily and tapped her buttocks lightly with a bare hand. “You’re not going anywhere right now until you know who’s in charge.”

  
      Aria increased her struggles, closing her eyes and tearing at the bedspread with all her might, ripping at the cloth with her close-trimmed nails.

  
     Clu did not like this at all. He unhooked the neon yellow whip from his waist, leaned all of his weight over Aria’s back, stretched to grab her flailing hands, and bound them at the wrists behind her back as tight as he could manage without cutting off her circulation. Aria was prone yet again, and even more vulnerable than before. She laid the relatively uninjured side of her face onto the shredded bedspread and allowed the tears she had been holding back flow freely.  
“You fucker. Bastard asshole cunt!” she tried to yell, but her insults came out weak and with no real substance to them.  
Clu ignored her and derezzed the torso of his suit, one arm still pinning Aria down, the other exploring the curious lump that has formed underneath his suit between his legs. The hand holding Aria down traced a path across the small of her back, towards the perfect ridge that was her ass, then down to the small opening of her femaleness. Aria’s whimpers became pained grunts of anger as Clu’s thumb ran up and down the opening, his other hand still on the bulge in his suit, his mind turning around thoughts alien to him.  
      In one sudden deft move Clu derezzed the rest of his suit, his erection springing free and standing tall, then in barely another breath, he entered her, bearing down against her back and ass, pressing a forearm in between her shoulders for better leverage. He let out a low groan, the sensation completely alien to him, and paused a moment to let his program adjust to it. Aria cried out, the sound leaving a metallic tang in the back of her throat, tears freely flowing now as she felt a definite tear deep within her, and foreign pressure as her tight body spread around Clu’s throbbing cock. Completely powerless to stop it, she had to endure. With his pause, Aria was momentarily convinced that he was having second thoughts. This illusion was quickly shattered when she heard him take a deep breath, pull almost completely out of her, then bore down again.

And again.

And again.

     It seemingly never ended, each thrust of his almost too-large cock bruising her internally and externally, his hips slapping against her with punishing speed and force. She wept and yelled out openly, making no attempt to hide her pain as he rode her for what seemed like forever. He seemed to enjoy it, the bastard. Clu pressed his face into her shoulder, breathing heavily against the back of her neck, breath warm and wet as he pounded her, groaning a little louder with each thrust, hips seemingly increasing their speed and force on their own as he felt climax draw close. It was such a curious sensation, this act was. He liked it. He liked the power he felt he had over her. He liked the hurt he was causing her. He was in charge, and there was nothing she could do about it.  
He felt an oozing sensation start at the tip of his cock, the fluid mingling with what he is presuming is blood from the scent of iron in the air. He felt himself throbbing harder and more intensely inside of her, then suddenly, completely outside of his own control, he arched his back and stiffened, whole body convulsing as he felt himself release more of the sticky fluid into her. The sensation was so overwhelming he nearly overloaded his circuitry. Lips pulled back into a grimace, he finished unloading inside of her, and collapsed on her back, actually a bit tired. So this was sex. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. Clu grinned into his prisoner’s flesh as he reveled in the power he felt he had over her now.

     Aria was at a loss. She cried. She screamed. She begged him to stop. He never responded, or even gave any indication that he was listening or cared. She hurt beyond hurt. She felt like he had torn her up inside. He probably did. Was it supposed to be this painful? How can anyone like sex if this is what it felt like? As he reared up and came inside of her, she felt the liquid warmth of his seed fill her, even stinging her, presumably from the injuries she had just received. She buried her face into the bedspread and cried harder than she had ever cried in her life.

Why like this.

Why did he do this to her?

What could he possibly gain from violating her?

Why.

     Aria’s sobs of anguish were so powerful that they actually shook the bed, bringing Clu out of his post-orgasm stupor. He shook himself awake, took in the sad sight beneath him, and grinned. He grabbed a fistful of her Aria’s hair and forcefully yanked her head back. He licked her cheek, then, nuzzling and nipping at her ear, whispered, with sick satisfaction heavy in his voice like rancid oil, “There, now you will never question who is in charge here. You’re mine now, User. You will serve purposes beyond anything you can ever imagine here with me. If you ever step out of line,” He paused, gave her one last savage thrust, and bit her neck, “I’ll have to give you another reminder about exactly where your position lies.”  
Aria growled wordlessly at this, angry beyond anything she’d ever felt, the rage within her threatening to boil over in a single violent explosion. She managed to just barely stay in control, glaring at Clu straight in the eyes, not bothering to hide the fire simmering in her own, tear-streaked face red and pulled into a snarl. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her mind. Not here. Not now.  
He chuckled softly, completely happy with the results he’s received from this experience. He pulled out of her, cock now mostly flaccid, and rezzed his suit back into existence. He ran one gloved hand down her back, unbound Aria’s hands, and started for the door. Touching an unseen button, he turned back towards her as she sat up slowly, legs tucked beneath her body, rubbing her wrists. He grinned again.

“Clean yourself up.”

     And he left. Aria stared at the empty space where he had stood, completely in shock. She had no idea what to do. She had no idea how to react to her situation. What can she do? What could she even do? Her eyes glazed over as her mind tried to compartmentalize everything that has happened. She felt disconnected from her body. She was still rubbing her wrists, and somewhat aware of the burning and soreness between her legs.

Yes. A shower. A shower would be good.

     After what seemed like hours, she slowly picked herself up off the bed and stepped into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit her, she broke, and started bawling into the stream. The tears seemed endless, but eventually, they did stop, or maybe she just ran out of tears. Feeling empty, she sat down on the floor of the tub, letting the water cascade over her as she hugged her knees, sadness slowly being replaced with unbridled anger, and what an anger it was, growing within her belly like forge fire.

She’ll get him back.

Aria didn’t know how she would, but she will have her day. The thought pleased her. She closed her eyes and grinned to herself at it.


End file.
